


You Say It Sweetest

by peachwentz



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunken Kissing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-High School, Unrequited Love, sorry this is bad i just kinda wrote it for the hell of it, this is kinda Soft tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 15:23:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10311218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachwentz/pseuds/peachwentz
Summary: A truly sociopathic, pinnacle of narcissism, Dennis had convinced everyone around him that he didn't even have feelings, and the charade had carried on long enough that the Gang had actually started believing it. Mac, however, knew differently.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know how i feel about this, and i'm almost reluctant to publish it, but i liked it enough to dedicate 20 minutes to writing it, so what the hell? BIG FEELINGS. i usually write almost exclusively smut so i guess this should be interesting...right? feel free to bug me or talk to me on tumblr on either my main blog, or my sunny sideblog:
> 
> \- vampirepete.tumblr.com
> 
> \- fuzzymac.tumblr.com
> 
> comments, suggestions, requests, and criticism are welcomed and encouraged!

**2:30 am**

**On a Thursday**

**Philadelphia, PA**

 

Paddy’s Pub was closed. The lights were out, the infamous misread “Coors” [Closed] sign was lit, and the Gang had all gone their separate ways, respectively. All of them were so wasted, they could've cuddled up in Fairmont Park next to Cricket all night and thought about hugging their childhood pet.

 

Dennis, who was kind of a generally sloppy drunk, the type to spill things, may it be food or drink, would never be sloppy enough to spill one thing – feelings. A truly sociopathic, pinnacle of narcissism, Dennis had convinced everyone around him that he didn't even  _ have  _ feelings, and the charade had carried on long enough that the Gang had actually started believing it. Mac, however, knew differently. Dennis did have feelings, however weak and repressed and buried they were, he had feelings just like any of them.

 

Mac and Dennis’s apartment felt so big that night. Maybe it was because Mac was so drunk that he had laid down on the floor twice walking to his bedroom. Maybe it was the fact that whatever girl Dennis had brought back to anonymously fuck had been thrown out, leaving a strange, empty guilt in every room. Mac couldn't sleep. The alcohol coursed through his body, pumping hard and fast and making his head swim – he couldn't even focus on the mysterious spot on his ceiling that was oddly shaped like a clover.

 

“M-Mac,” A voice called out. Extremely Drunk Mac knew it was Dennis, although, he couldn't quite figure out what he wanted.

 

“Yeah, dude?” He called back, although, his voice wasn't very strong and didn't carry well.

 

More silence followed. Dennis cleared his throat, and Mac stood up, making his way slowly across the living room and into Dennis’s bedroom.

 

“What...What’s up?” Mac asked, scrubbing a hand over his eyes in a bleak attempt to stay awake.

 

There was the silence again. Dennis was staring blankly at nothing in particular, and Mac groaned, throwing himself into bed next to his best friend.

 

_ “What?  _ Do you want me to like...A-Are we gon...Gonna watch the tape you made with that chick?” 

 

Dennis inhaled slowly, then slapped a hand over Mac’s shoulder, patting it reassuringly. Mac wasn't exactly sure why, but he felt strangely comforted by it regardless. “Dennis?”

 

Dennis turned his head slowly. “I didn't love her. I didn't even know her name. I don't love  _ any  _ of them.”

 

The information that Dennis had no feelings, and even less than no feelings toward random girls he’d swindled was not at all news, and Mac, inebriated and very confused, furrowed his brow. “What?”

 

“I would never have sex with someone that I loved.”

 

The time for the conversation was definitely not while both of them were drunk, and Mac groaned loudly. “Jesus  _ Christ _ , stop it,” He mumbled halfheartedly, snuggling into Dennis and closing his eyes.

 

“Did you...D-Did you know,” Den slurred, “My parents...My  _ goddamn parents _ never...Never told me they  _ loved  _ me? Even when I got into Penn, th-they didn't care,” He hiccuped. Mac opened an eye and looked up at his roommate.

 

“Why do you care about that? We all had shitty childhoods. Shut up,” Mac grumbled, leaving his eye open just to watch.

 

Dennis sighed, then much to Mac’s shock, sniffled.

 

“I-I got into an Ivy League school, a-and  _ neither one  _ said they loved me,” He whimpered. Sober Dennis, Mac knew, would've never admitted something like that. Still, he felt extremely sympathetic given the hellacious conditions of his own childhood, and set a hand in Den’s hair, petting gently.

 

“S’okay, dude,” Mac mumbled, nuzzling closer. 

 

“It's  _ fucked, _ a-and I don't…I don't  _ care  _ anymore, I don't  _ want  _ someone to love me,” Dennis groaned, furrowing his brow and gesturing at absolutely nothing. Mac could smell all the Crown Royale and cheap Coors on his breath. “Mac? Y-You remember...In high school–,” immediately, Mac cut him off with an abrupt, “No.  _ No talking about high school.” _

 

Dennis puffed out a defeated breath of air, and shoved Mac’s shoulder. “You...Y-You sold me the  _ shittiest pot  _ the first time I ever went to you! It was so  _ bad! _ ” He giggled, cracking up and sending himself into a fit of laughter, which by default, actually made Mac laugh too.

 

“What?” Mac giggled, voice cracking.

 

“That shit was  _ terrible!” _ Dennis squawked, laughing hysterically. Mac didn't even know what was so funny, but his face was scrunched up and he clutched his stomach, laughing. 

 

Somehow, between the laughter and  _ Dennis Reynolds  _ talking about his  _ feelings _ , they were kissing. Mac could taste shots on Den’s teeth, he tasted that ugly girl’s perfume. Dennis tasted whatever Mac had stuffed in his face from their Wawa visit. He tasted beer and loneliness, but Mac’s lips were so soft. His mouth was gentle and warm.

 

It wasn't really awkward until Dennis pulled away, slightly breathless and pushing Mac’s hair from his face. “Remember high school?”

 

“Y-You kissed me under the bleachers after I sold you  _ shitty weed _ ,” Mac reminisced, once again closing his eyes.

 

Mac and Dennis kissed again.

 

“Remember high school?”

 

“I-I fucked your prom date. Y-You knew it was me...You still invited me over,” Mac mumbled.

 

“I didn't kiss you that night.”

 

“No,” Mac snorted, turning away from Dennis.

 

“I kissed you before I left for Penn. I wasn't pretending you were a girl that time,” He admitted. Mac had known that for years. He didn't need his roommate to tell him that. The last kiss was right after they graduated. They didn't talk about it. They got high, they kissed, and Dennis left. Both of them knew it wasn't like the first time.

 

"Did you ever tell anyone?" Dennis asked cautiously.

 

"No."

 

"Me neither."

 

When Dennis was at Penn, he found new ways to pretend boys were girls, and it didn't matter how many times it happened, he kept thinking about Ronnie the Rat selling him shitty weed under the high school bleachers. 

 

“I-I wasn't drunk when I told you I loved you when you came home,” Mac admitted. His voice was quick and he sounded  _ so guilty,  _ almost like he was going to cry.

 

Dennis’s reassuring, drunk and heavy hand patted him, then thumbed his cheek. “I wasn't either,” He mumbled.

 

The silence in their suddenly huge apartment lingered for a while after that. Both of them were so hopelessly intoxicated, and nothing they were saying made sense, and at the same time, it all made  _ perfect  _ sense. 

 

“I’m never going to say it back,” Dennis clarified, clearing his throat quickly and sucking in whatever drool had come from his lips while he laid down. Mac already knew that, too. And he didn't have to. Their “I love you” didn't have to be spoken. If it was, it would've felt different, and Dennis didn't  _ want  _ different. He liked being so familiar with Mac, and he’d take it to the grave. 

 

“I love you,” Mac whimpered. He didn't sound sad that time, he didn't sound guilty, just so plastered his lips couldn't form words. Dennis knew it.

 

Den sniffed, and he wanted to kiss Mac again, but he didn't. “I’m drunk,” He groaned, and Mac nodded in agreement, barely able to understand the context of their conversation. 

 

“Shut up,” The younger man grumbled, groping blindly up at Dennis’s face to cover his mouth. “I-I don't care. Stop...Stop talking about  _ high school, _ ” Mac groaned, opening one eye and tilting his head up to look at Dennis.

 

“I-I have...I have feelings.  _ Big feelings.  _ And it– And it  _ hurts, _ ” Dennis whined.

 

“I love you,” Mac said back.

 

“Don't ever go anywhere,  _ dude.  _ Unless you want to– to stop being such a  _ burden _ ,” He begged, emphasizing the word dude and subtly throwing in an insult to lighten the somber mood. Mac was already giggling about it.

 

“Okay, okay. Shut up,” He said back.

 

Dennis smiled, then stared at his dark wall. The video camera he never turned on was sitting poised on his dresser, and Mac’s body had gone limp. Dennis just assumed he was asleep, and carefully, he ran his fingers through his best friend’s tousled hair.

 

“I think I love you,” He whispered.

  
Mac already knew that, too.


End file.
